Ephemera Flower
by Erizaveta
Summary: Inspired by the Davie strip/episode. A young England was playing with Mrs. Fairy when a certain, mortal girl interrupts him. A string of events followed. Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello guys! I present you a very depressing story over here… Please refrain from reading if it is a trigger or something. I was really upset with the Davie episode, so I just… wrote it. With England's POV. Bon voyage…**

 _Happiness and joy_

 _Sorrow and sadness_

 _You and I_

 _We shared them together_

 _Shared for a time_

 _But suddenly faltered_

 _Flowers of a dream_

"Hello!"

A young England stopped cuddling with his newly made friend Mrs. Fairy, a flying mint bunny and turned his hood-clad head, trying to see who had called him. Mrs. Fairy flapped her wings, squeaked "Goodbye!" and flew away towards the sky. Arthur felt a pang of disappointment, but still squinted to try to block out the sunlight in his eyes to see the person standing over him.

It was a girl. She had elbow-length blonde hair tied up in pigtails and shining mischievous blue eyes, the same colour as the fur of Mrs. Fairy. She had a wide smile on her face. She bended down and looked curiously at England's lap, where Mrs. Fairy was sitting at just a while ago, "What are you petting?"

England pouted and looked forlornly at the sky, as if wanting Mrs. Fairy to come back, "You scared Mrs. Fairy…"

"Mrs. Fairy?"

England blinked in surprise at the girl. Didn't she see the mint bunny just now? He stood up and turned so that he was facing the girl and crossed his arms, slightly irked that she scared the bunny away, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

The girl cocked her head to the side, and a grin spread across her face. She apparently didn't notice the hostility in England's voice, "I am Alfreda! You?"

England blinked, then panic started growing inside him. He couldn't possibly say that he was a country, right? That meant he needed a human name… But he didn't have one! None of the Nations do! He needed to think of one name…

 _Tim? No. Err… Harry? No. Hurry up hurry up…_ England noticed the strange look in Alfreda's eyes. He nervously tugged at his hood and looked at his feet, the gears in his small head spinning. _How about… Arthur! Yes!_ He looked up and still with a bit of hostility in his eyes, said, "I'm Arthur. What are you doing here?"

"Oh?" Alfreda's eyebrows rose, as if she had never thought about why she was talking to a stranger sitting in the middle of a meadow patting some mysterious invisible force. She looked around and pointed at a house far across the horizon, looking like a minute dot in the vast green of the grass, "You are the only person I met here. I wanted to be friends." She smiled at England's direction and the young Nation was mesmerized at how her hair glowed in the sunlight and lit up like fire. Her eyes shone brightly, full of life and happiness. She jumped up and down, "You want to be my friend?"

"S-Sure." England stuttered and looked away, his face reddening. Hopefully Alfreda wouldn't notice it under his hood.

"Great!" The girl cheered ran forward, about to hug the Nation when he suddenly stepped back and snapped at the girl, "S-S-Shut up, git! I wasn't d-doing it for you! I-I-I was doing it for myself, y-you git! Think p-properly!"

England huffed slightly and turned his back at Alfreda, and lowered his head in embarrassment. Actually, he was alone and felt lonely at that time. He needed company. His big brother France was on a business trip and he had no one to play with. Alfreda _could_ be a nice person to keep him company. He turned his head slightly to look at Alfreda, "T-Thanks…"

Alfreda grinned so widely he thought her mouth will bruise and hang limp any second. She grabbed England's hand and sat down, pulling England down so he also sat down by default. She faced him with her eyes widened in curiosity and she rattled on, "How old are you? Do you live here? With whom do you live with? Do you have any friends? Can I meet them?"

England's mouth gaped open slightly, trying to process the questions in his mind. Then slowly, he replied, "I'm a hundred—" He paused before correcting himself, "I'm three. I live with Big Brother Fran—cis." He internally heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God he didn't mess up, " I don't live here. I live somewhere over there…" He pointed at the direction where they lived, which was behind a hill and a small forest, "I have friends. They're names are Mrs. Fairy, Ms. Petal, Ms. Leaf, Unicorn, and many others…" He let his sentence hang there, noticing the look of awe on Alfreda's face.

"You have so many friends?!" She squealed in excitement, "Can I meet them? Can I? Can I?" She quickly leaned in forward so much her nose almost touched the Nation's. England, surprised, instinctively leaned back and tumbled backwards, eliciting a roar of laughter from the girl.

England pushed himself up and petulantly retaliated by pushing the girl down as well getting both of them covered in grass and dirt. Alfreda, despite the retaliation, laughed harder and pushed England down again.

England felt a spark of incredulity at the girl's density and pouted as he brushed away at the grass stuck to his cloak. Didn't she get the message that he did not like being pushed? Apparently not.

Right after the last blade of grass left his cloak when he felt tiny hands grip his shoulders and push him backwards. With a squeal copious in surprise, the Nation keeled over and landed on his back. He blinked angrily at Alfreda, who had her legs at each side of his torso and practically _straddling_ him with her face barely inches away from his.

"Can I?" She squeaked. Her breath smelled like mint.

England nodded vigorously. Satisfied, Alfreda crawled off him and helped him sit up. When he finally caught his breath, he signaled Alfreda to keep away and keep quiet and clambered to his feet. He faced the forest looming far at the distance, put two fingers in his mouth, and blew hard. A shrill whistle echoed across the wide meadow. He waited. The leaves rustled, but no animals emerged from forest.

He was sure disappointment was evident on his face. He faced Alfreda and shook his head grimly, as if someone had died. "No," England said, "They're not coming out. But I'm sure they'll come one day."

Alfreda stuck out her bottom lip and nodded. "Okay." She blinked once, and her face bore a huge grin, "You can show me next time!" She looked proudly at England, as if she had made a wonderful and dynamic discovery.

The Nation resisted the urge to sigh. He gave a forced smile and agreed. Then he paused, and his face turned red, and he looked away from the girl, "I-I wasn't doing it f-for you! I-I-I just wanted to show you that I h-have more friends than you! Y-Y-You bloody git!"

Alfreda chuckled. She patted his messy hair, "Arthur, you're very cute."

Offended, embarrassed, incredulous and mildly disgusted, he stared at Alfreda with his mouth gaped open and his eyebrows forming an incredulous 'V'. "W-W-W-W-What are you talking a-about?!" He stuttered as he promptly shoved Alfreda's hand off his head, and he raced towards his house, but he stopped at a few feet and turned around, face still red.

"I-I'll show you my friends one day!" He called over the wind as he waved at Alfreda, "I wouldn't forget you!"

"That's a promise!"

 _A field of grass_

 _Leads to heaven_

 _A gentle wind passed by_

 _When you gave a smile_

 _Nothing to fear_

 _Forever in my heart_

 _Blooming flowers prevail_

When England reached his huge house, he noticed an extra pair of shoes at the rustic doorstep. A tentative excitement, pure and unadulterated, bubbled in his heart. Could Big Brother France be possibly home…? He kicked off his boots and leapt up the stairs into the house.

Sure enough.

A blonde pre-teen Nation sat on a chair, sipping wine. "Big Brother France!" The young Nation lost control of his excitement and cried out as he threw himself into his arms, causing the Frenchman to almost drop his wine.

"Angleterre!" France laughed, hugging England and settling him on his lap, "Since when did you miss me, mon ami?"

England froze in his arms, then struggled out of his arms to stand on the floor and glare at the older Nation with his arms crossed, "It's not that I missed you!" He snapped as his ears turned red, "I…I was just bored!" He huffed embarrassedly and pouted.

France's smiling face disappeared, replaced by a stony one. "Angleterre," He muttered, "Come here. This is serious."

England's face went slightly slack, and he slowly stumbled up towards France, heart racing.

France looked intensely at the Nation, "You're going overseas for a world conference."

His heart fluttered with mixed emotions. A world conference! Those infamous meetings of the Nations' where they all meet in one place to discuss stuff! He was going there! But he was going to be the youngest there. All the other bigger nations would look down on him. What would he do? Voice quivering with anxiety, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"France."

"You?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"For how long?"

This time France had to think for a bit. He frowned shortly before answering, "I don't know, Angleterre. Maybe two years. Maybe ten. Possibly more."

That was all he could do from crying aloud. How about Alfreda? He wanted to show her his friends quickly! _Don't worry_ , he told himself, _you have all the time in the world. She can wait for you forever.._ He started feeling calmer.

Then the darker side of him whispered, _Or can she?_

 _The beautiful smell of the land that lingers in our history_

 _Sands of black that colour every little corner_

 _I saw eternity only once, but I realize it cannot be kept in sight_

"Alfreda! Alfredaaaaa!" England cried out in happiness and relief, running towards what he believed was Alfreda's house on his short legs. He didn't care that he just arrived from the ship a few miles away, or that it was going to be nighttime in an hour or so. He also shoved aside the fact that he had been stuck at France for… was that _fifteen_ years? He believed—no, knew—that Alfreda was waiting for him, even after all those years. He had immediately called Mrs. Fairy and Unicorn from the forest to go meet Alfreda, after all, he still had not forgotten his promise to the girl, and that would be un-gentlemanly.

He slowly ceased to a stop at the foot of the house. He widened his eyes at the house. It was _huge_. He was pretty sure the last time he saw it, it was a small little wooden hut, and now it was several times taller than him, with windows, and it was made of sturdier wood. It was like England's and France's house, only made with cheaper

Tentatively, he walked up to the towering wooden door, Mrs. Fairy floating beside him and Unicorn cantering behind him, and tiptoed, trying to reach the doorknob. His fingers curled around the object and he turned it. With an eerie _creeeeeeak_ , the door creaked open and without pausing he cried out, "Alfreda!"

What he saw was unexpected.

A young lady whom resembled Alfreda jumped and spun around, her flowing blond locks bouncing. Her eyes landed on England, and she visibly relaxed. "Oh, hello." She put down the basket of clothing on the dirt floor and kneeled in front of the Nation, and smiled calmly.

Before she could have a chance to speak, the still-young Nation let out a choked laugh and grabbed Mrs. Fairy, brandishing the mint-coloured bunny to Alfreda, "This is Mrs. Fairy! I didn't break my promise!"

He thought Alfreda would love the little creature, but the girl just tilted her head sideways in confusion and squinted at the bunny. "Huh? I can't see anything…" She gave him a tight-lipped smile, her expression was the same as what the older Nations gave him when he was in France for the world conference, but he didn't know what it was, it was somewhere between pity and amusement. She patted her head, "Little child, are you lost?"

England's arms lowered. He looked up pathetically at the lady. "A-Alfreda…" He whined sadly, "Don't you remember me? I'm A…Arthur!"

Recognition flashed in her eyes, but she frowned slightly before shaking her head, and England heard her mutter, "Can't be _him_." He placed Mrs. Fairy down on the porch before tugging at her skirt. Alfreda shook her head, "I'm sorry, child. I don't know who you are."

Trying to ignore the growing panic in him, he pouted, "Alfreda, Can't you remember me?" He caressed the unicorn, "Can't you see Unicorn?" A sob was already rising in his throat, but he swallowed it back.

The lady frowned at his arms, and shook her head. Standing up, she gave the Nation pitiful eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry." And closed the door.

A heavy feeling settled in his stomach, and hands gripped his throat as he tried to breathe through the haze of sadness engulfing him. His vision blurred—he was crying—and he blinked rapidly, tears rolling down his pale face. A small, choked sob escaped his throat, and heartbroken, he grabbed Unicorn and ran towards the hill. He felt angry, hurt, betrayed—mostly betrayed—because how could Alfreda forget about their promise? Why did she pretend she didn't know him?

He hurriedly backhanded the tears and squared his jaw gritting his teeth. Halfway up the hill, England's short legs gave out under him and he fell to his knees from overexertion, exhaustion and his churning emotions. He curled forward onto the ground, his head hiding in his arms as he cried, broken, pained sobs shaking his body. After a few minutes, he quietened down and now exhausted beyond words, he wordlessly curled up beside Unicorn, who had stayed with him and gently caressed the flying mint bunny, and his eyelids slowly closed as the sky above him turned from yellow to orange to red.

The last thing he heard was a startled cry, "Angleterre! Why are you on the ground?!"

 _Our lives are strolling in a world of wonder_

 _The poem of my life, a pretty song I remember_

 _We already acted a thousand lives_

 _For the briefest moment in our long history_

 _I love you, I miss all of you_

 _No worries what had happened then_

 _I won't ever say goodbye_

England nervously shifted his feet on the now-stone porch of Alfreda's improved home. Her house was now made from hardened clay and cement, with wide, proud windows of paned glass. It was pretty nice, in England's option, but he was not there to admire her house; he was here to meet her.

It had been several years already, and over the years, changes happened. Many changes. France and England had moved houses, and his current house was several kilometers away from Alfreda's house—he had to walk for _ages_ —, he had actually grown a bit more in human years, now he looked five instead of three, and he had made more friends to show Alfreda.

Alfreda… He felt a pang every time he thought of that girl. Why hadn't she remembered him? Why didn't she see his friends? Why did she forget their promise? He shook his head and patted the unicorn beside him.

He gulped as he looked at the door, and rapped his knuckles against the wood, "Alfreda?" He tentatively called out.

Several moments passed before the door swung open, and a little girl's head peeked out. She could not look older than England. He coughed nervously before saying, "Alfreda?"

The girl glanced at the Nation before her head disappeared behind the door, and he vaguely heard, "Aunty Alfreda! Someone's looking for you!" He heard shuffles from inside before a woman stepped out in front of him. She looked just like Alfreda, only that she had a few wrinkles and her old shining hair was now dull.

A hot wave of happiness washed over him , before he jumped straight into her arms, "Alfreda! Alfreda!"

The woman blinked in confusion before kneeling down, patting England's head, smiling. "Child," She teased, pinching his cheek, "nice to meet you." She didn't even acknowledge the unicorn and the fairies beside her.

He stroked Unicorn's back, "Isn't she pretty? Her mane is so…" His voice faltered, noticing the look of confusion on Alfreda's face. "Alfreda? Cant you see her?"

The woman squinted before sighing. She ruffled England's hair, giving him a forced smile, and shook her head slowly. Unicorn whinnied.

The truth dawned upon him, filling his mouth and nose until he could hardly breathe. His voice shook, "Y-You can't s-s-see my friends? What a-about our p-promise?" A spark of anger shot through his veins, and he yelled, "Why?!" All at once, hot tears streamed down his green eyes, he leapt onto Unicorn's back, and fled towards home. He didn't look back.

All that was left of England, was his tearstains on the porch, in front of Alfreda.

 _Birds are singing_

 _Clouds are drifting_

 _Trees are rustling_

 _They cover the night_

 _Time passes by_

 _With merciless pride_

 _The sun will rise again_

England threw on his cloak and shivered in the rain. He was standing outside Alfreda's house, which was in the middle of a small village. So far, it was the grandest house of the whole village, so it was not hard for him to find. He stroked Mrs. Fairy, which was hiding under his cloak, sheltering from the rain.

He knocked on the door, noticing that it was much easier. Apparently through all those years, he had grown rapidly and now he was seven instead of five years old. He hoped his childhood friend recognized him, not like last time. _Never_ like last time.

He looked up when the door creaked open, and this time, it was a girl aged between 10 to 25. The girl's blue eyes burned with suspicion, and her voice was sharp, "Who are you?"

England fought the urge to quail at the girl's terrifying gaze. He lifted his chin and said, "I want to see Alfreda."

"Who are you?"

"A…Arthur."

The girl's eyes softened. She opened the door wide enough for the Nation to go through, "Ah, come in."

England's face broke into a huge smile. "Thank you!" He stepped into the house, and closed his eyes, pausing to inhale the scent that the house smelled of. It smelled like bread. His stomach rumbled quietly. He frowned and opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was an old woman sitting on a rocking chair, staring at him with her sharp blue eyes. She smiled at England, motioning him over, and said, "Come here, Arthur."

 _Arthur!_ He felt his smile widening. She said his name! Did she remember him? He ran towards the old woman, disregarding the fact that she looked so old. He crossed his legs at the foot of Alfreda, pulling out the flying mint bunny from his cloak and presenting her to the woman, "Alfreda! This is Mrs. Fairy! She's my best friend!"

The old lady, or Alfreda, smiled apologetically at England. She shook her head and she said quietly, her voice sounding like it was dragged over sandpaper and gravel, "I'm sorry, I cannot see your friends, dear Arthur."

Eyes widening, in both fear and hurt, mostly hurt, he whispered, his voice cracking, "Y-You cant see Mrs. Fairy?" Tears blurred his vision, until Alfreda was just a blob of colour in his sight, "Why cant you see—"

"Hush, child." Alfreda said, and ruffled his wet messy hair, "I cannot see your friends, alas, however, I _can_ remember you. And don't you worry, child," she said, leaning in until he could smell her minty breath, "I have always believed in your friends, ever since I met you on that meadow."

"Really?" England said, and he started cuddling Mrs. Fairy, which had curled up on his lap.

" _Happiness and joy…_ " England's head snapped up when he heard Alfreda singing. Her voice was melodious, and so smooth, he could almost feel her voice brush past his body, " _Sorrow and sadness… You and I…_ " She looked at England and smiled warmly, and England closed his eyes, enjoying her song, a smile unconsciously appearing on his lips, " _We shared them together…"_

 _Our lives are strolling in a world of wonder_

 _The poem of my life, a pretty song I remember_

 _We already acted a thousand lives_

 _For the briefest moment in our long history_

 _I love you, I miss all of you_

 _No matter what had happened then_

 _I won't ever say goodbye_

England leapt over everything that was in his way, a grin on his face and a whole army of fairies behind him. He was running towards the town where Alfreda's house was, and he was excited to hang out with her again.

A few days before, after she had finished singing her song, he had gone home, wanting to bring his newer friends to meet Alfreda. Of course, his journey took almost 4 days, since his house was so far from hers, but who cares? He was almost there now.

Then he noticed it.

A huge crowd of people were gathered behind Alfreda's house, all dressed in either black or white. Confused, England headed towards the group, and slowly noticed that they were crying. They were crying over a long box-like structure.

Confused and slightly curious, he shuffled towards them, the fairies staying in the air as he weaved through the legs of the adults. He finally reached the front, and noticed the girl from he last time he had visited. But now she looked different. Her wavy blond hair was let down instead of up in a ponytail. Her face was pale, sad and angry at the same time. Her eyes were as sharp as ever, but it was sharp in pain. He tugged at the girl's black gown, "Hello?"

The girl looked down and scowled at him. She snapped her head up and continued staring at the box stiffly.

"W…Where's Alfreda?" He whimpered. The girl stiffened, and stared at him again, her eyes as hard and as cold as emeralds. He saw her hands clench into fists.

Wordlessly, she grabbed England's hand harder than needed, and dragged him towards the box. She pointed at the box and growled, "In there." Her voice was tight and broken.

England, now slightly scared, peered into the box and was startled to see Alfreda sleeping in the box, covered in flowers. He looked at her. She looked so peaceful… and cold.

Then it struck him. Alfreda was… gone. She was gone, forever. It was all he could do from wailing aloud. He let out a whimper, and a fairy landed on his shoulder. His head hung low, and his shoulders shook as he silently cried, tears of sorrow and sadness rolling down his cheeks and soaking into the dirt.

A single raindrop landed right under Alfreda's eyelashes, rolling down her cheek as is she was crying as well. England backhanded his tears as he choked out.

"W-What about o-our promise…?"

 _Nothing to fear_

 _Forever in my heart_

 _Blooming flowers prevail_

 **How is it? This is really sad… At least for me. I'm sorry f there are mistakes I the story, since I was in a hurry and did not have enough time to review it. I hope there would be a epilouge after this chapter. But I havent started on it yet. Sorry! Please review! Thank you!**

 **-Erizaveta**


	2. Chapter 2

**The families of victims of the Paris terrorist attacks have my deepest condolences. Stay strong! Be strong! Show the world that you all are!**

 **"** **The pain we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me, reminds us, that while we may come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one."**

 **This is the epilogue of the story that I had mentioned in the previous chapter. I apologize if there are any mistakes in here, England is a bit OOC, and the chapter is too short, much to my disappointment.**

 **Sorry.**

 **-Erizaveta**

"Alright," Germany sighed as he looked around the large table with almost all the Nations in the world staring at him, "I held this emergency meeting because we Nations need a name." Before any of the Nations could protest, he added, "A human name to protect our identities. Any questions?" His voice was taut, meaning that he was serious. No one wanted to interrupt Germany, unless they wanted a death sentence.

However, England silently scoffed at him before continuing to sip his Earl Grey tea. He barely went out into the human world; he didn't need a human name. Also, he didn't care about angering the German. Apparently, Germany heard his scoff, and turned to stare at him with piercing blue eyes and scowled. England returned the frown with a grin.

From the corner of his sight, a hand slowly went up. It was Norway. In a slow drawl, he said, "S' we need t' make a name up for ourselves?"

"Ja." Germany nodded. At least one of the Nations was serious. He shot England a look before he stood up and took out a list with countries' names on it. "Alright, we'll start from me, and go around in clockwise direction. Write down your human name—or alias— beside your country's name." He sat down, and wrote on the list, then passed on to the Nation beside him, who was unsurprisingly Italy.

"Vee~ my name is going to be… Feliciano Vargas!" He scribbled on the list and handed it to Japan.

Japan accepted the list and flipped through the list, trying to find his name. When he found it, he thought for a while before writing his human name in kanji, then stopped, erased it, and rewrote it in English carefully " _Kiku Honda_." He passed it on to France.

France took the list and nodded his head, his hair waving around. England felt his eye twitch. Still miffed at how France almost won over America, he leaned in and hissed, "Your name should be Frog. France the Frog."

France chuckled and retaliated, "Then your name should be Eyebrows _, mon cher._ England the Eyebrows." He chuckled harder at England's incredulous and red face, and in cursive, wrote " _Francis Bonnefoy_ ". He flipped his hair over his shoulder and passed it to England.

England muttered, "Bloody git." He grabbed the list and huffed, searching for his country. His eyes landed on another country: America. He froze, and his mind went to the little child playing in England's house. He also needed to think of a name for him too. He noticed his country's name and paused, his brain gears turning. A name… _Arthur_. England blinked. Arthur. Sounds beautiful. Arthur what?

For some apparent reason he thought of Church Hill in England. Church meant kirk… Hill is land… Kirk plus land equals to— the name flashed in his mind. Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland. The name instantly clicked. It fitted him perfectly.

With a flourish, he wrote " _Arthur Kirkland_ " on the list and smirked. He went back to America's name and paused as a girl's grinning face flashed in his mind. She had blue eyes and blond hair, and an annoying personality. Just like America.

Alfreda. Alfreda Jones.

England bit his lip, remembering her smile. Without thinking, England wrote "Alfred" beside the word 'America'. He smirked at the name. America's attitude and looks matched Alfreda's. Alfred Jones, perfect for America. He scribbled down the name beside America's name, and passed it on to China, and the meeting continued…

.o.O.0.O.o.

"America!" England sing-songed as he entered his house, or mansion. It was dark outside, as it was almost midnight. He placed his briefcase on the sofa and heard thumping of footsteps from the stairs. In less than a second, America ran towards him with his arms outstretched, his nightgown billowing behind him. England smiled and knelt down with his arms open wide.

"Big brother England! You came back!" America leapt straight into his arms and hugged him tightly. Too tightly, perhaps.

England let out a gasp as America's arms pressed strongly against his ribs, and he swore he heard them crack loudly. He let go of America's little body and carried him, giving a slightly pained smile. He needed to bandage his chest later. "Of course, I will never leave you." England tickled America, "How are you, mate?"

"Happy!"

"Good!" England twirled the young Nation around, eliciting a squeal of delight from the child, "Because we have human names now!" He set the still giggling Nation onto the sofa.

America blinked owlishly at the Briton. "Human names?" He tilted his head to the side and yawned. England frowned slightly. America needed to sleep soon.

"Yes." England put the child on his lap and stroked his hair, like how he always did while America slept, "Human names." He used his free hand to gesture to himself, "Mine is… Arthur Kirkland." He poked America's cheek, "Yours is Alfred Jones."

"Alfred Jones?" America looked up at England, repeating his name, "Alfred Jones…" A grin spread across his face, "Alfred Jones!" He started jumping all over the sofa, almost crushing the Englishman's legs, "Alfred Jones! Alfred Jones!" England laughed at the kid's antics, despite the fact that said kid's feet almost landed on his hand and fractured it.

At least he liked the name.

After he quietened down, America curled up on the Brit's lap and murmured, "Why Alfred Jones?"

England pursed his lips, thinking of Alfreda. He couldn't tell him about her. He gave a forced smile and lied, his heart twisting, "Because you're Alfred Jones."

America pouted, obviously not satisfied by his answer. A huge yawn stopped his protest. Blinking tiredly, he leaned on the Brit's chest and closed his eyes.

England hugged him. A silent smile made its way to his lips. He stroked America's hair and closed his eyes as well.

"Big brother…?" England looked at America. "Can my name be Alfred Freedom Jones…?"

England unconsciously frowned. Freedom. Was he implying something?

No. He was too young.

The Englishman forced out a chuckle and replied, "Sure. Alfred F. Jones it is." He closed his eyes and whispered, "Good night."

He paused for a minute as a bitter smile spread across his face. He recalled the day Alfreda sung to him.

He sung softly, " _Happiness and joy… Sorrow and sadness… You and I… We shared them together…_ " He blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes, " _Shared for a time… But suddenly faltered…"_

Soft snores came from the young Nation.

England smiled, " _Flowers of a dream…"_

 **Damn it, you git. Why are you OOC… Why are you making me feel bad…. Why are you making me write this… Why am I doing this… Why am I ranting… Why am I-**

 **Damn it.**

 **-Erizaveta**


End file.
